


Caveat Emptor

by TessaTheDreamer



Category: The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Blood and Gore, Demons, Hearing Voices, M/M, Malec wedding, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, pig in a poke, pre QOAAD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 11:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17324330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TessaTheDreamer/pseuds/TessaTheDreamer
Summary: Alec Lightwood has waited years to marry his love, Magnus Bane. Finally, he has a chance. But... nightmares are haunting him - weird visions, voices. Even so, nothing will stop Alec from marrying his fiancé.





	Caveat Emptor

**Author's Note:**

> This work was written before QOAAD and finished and edited after the release. But in the light of the events in QOAAD this is very fitting. I hope you enjoy x

“Earth to Alec!” Izzy waves her hand in front of my face, bringing me back to reality.

I’m in the library of the New York Institute. The smell of old parchment and dust fills my nose. Izzy is sitting opposite me on one of the large sofas Clary brought in. The fire is crackling, casting shadows on Izzy’s face.

“Sorry, I zoned out,” I say, “What’s up?”

“I need you to tell me which colour theme is better: the white and blue, the rose and white, or the blue and gold?” she says, passing me three pieces of cloth. I examine them carefully. What would we need colour schemes for? Is there a party I don’t know about?

I try to rack my brain for a memory of planning a party.

“What’s this for?” I ask, pushing the cloths back.

Izzy looks at me as if I just told her I’m a vampire. “What do you mean? It’s for your wedding, of course! What’s up with you recently? You’re acting really weird,” she says, and everything clicks in my brain. The wedding, right!

“Sorry about that. It’s just nerves,” I explain, then look at the colours again, “I don’t know which one is the best. Can’t you ask Magnus?”

“He’s busy, Alec. Didn’t he tell you?” she says, “He went to finish up some preparations for the venue and catering for the after-party.”

I remember. “Oh, right, I forgot,” I say, “In that case, I think the blue and gold is the best.”

Izzy jots something down in a black notebook. I swear, it wasn’t there a few minutes ago. Or maybe that’s just the stress.

We stand up as the fire in the fireplace dies down.

“I should get Bridget to clean up that fireplace. It’s quite a mess,” she says, looking at the ash-coloured smudges on the stone. She looks at me, “And you should go check on Simon and Max. I don’t think it was a good idea to leave these two alone. Especially in the kitchen. They’ve probably eaten all the leftover pasta.”

I nod, then ask, “Is Rafael with them too?”

“Raphael? Why would he be there too?” Izzy frowns.

I’m shocked. “Because he’s my son and he’s too young to be taking care of himself, Izzy.”

A realisation dawns on her face. “Right! I was thinking of the other Raphael. Rafe is there too.”

I nod, then leave the library. Turning left, I head towards the training room, Church at my side. I pass through the witchlight-lit corridors with tapestries of Raziel and the earliest Shadowhunters on them.

As I near the room, I hear the kids running around, laughing. Joy wells up inside me. I can’t help, but smile.

Jace is running around with them, sticks in hands, pretending to sword-fight with them.

“Hey, Jace,” I walk inside. He turns towards me. His golden hair is tousled from playing with Max and Rafe, “Thanks for taking care of the kids.”

“It’s my pleasure, Alec. They’re quite a pair of warriors already, aren’t you two?” he says the last part to Max and Rafael, who are still running around, now playing an unusual game of tag.

“Alright, Max, Rafael, playtime is over!” I call out.

The boys look at me, their faces plastered with smiles. It’s adorable. I’ll never get used to it. The way in which their smiles warm my heart is the most amazing thing about being a parent.

“Daddy!” they shout in unison, running over to me. I squat down to hug them both.

“Are you two hungry?” I ask. They nod enthusiastically.

“Thanks again, Simon,” I say, looking up at him. He smiles at the kids.

_How did he get in here?_ A voice at the back of my mind says, but I dismiss it.

“No problem,” he says.

The kids are already running to the kitchen, so with one last thankful glance at Simon, I jog after them.

 

I look out of the kitchen window as the kids eat the leftover pasta.

Twilight has fallen. The streetlights have been lit, creating a mysterious sort-of atmosphere. Nine magpies sit on the Institute’s fence. They remind me of a poem Clary taught me.

_“One for sorrow_  
Two for joy  
Three for a girl  
Four for a boy  
Five for silver  
Six for gold  
And seven for a secret   
Never to be told  
Eight for a wish  
Nine for a kiss” I mutter to myself, smiling. A kiss. The most special kiss of my life.

“And ten for a surprise you should be careful not to miss,” I turn around, shocked to hear Rafe speak.

“Auntie Clary taught me the poem,” he smiles innocently.

With a sigh of relief, I turn back to the window. Another magpie sits on the fence.

 

Magnus comes back as I put the kids to sleep in one of the Institute bedrooms. He opens the door into the pitch black room, flooding it with light.

“Are they asleep?” he whispers, leaning against the doorframe.

I nod, letting go of Max’s tiny blue hand. I walk over to Magnus, giving him a quick kiss. We walk out into the corridor, quietly closing the door.

“How are the preparations going?” I ask him, taking hold of his hand.

“Everything is done for tomorrow’s wedding. _Our_ wedding,” he says, looking up at me with his brown eyes. I could swear Magnus’ eyes were yellow cat eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks, his cat eyes gleaming, eyebrows knitted together with worry.

“Of course. I’m just tired from all the prep,” I say.

“Then let’s go to sleep,” he says, pulling me after him towards my old Institute bedroom.

 

I lay in bed, unable to fall asleep. Magnus is sleeping soundly next to me, his bare chest rising and falling steadily. I look up at the ceiling, my stomach in a knot.

Thanking the Angel for my swiftness runes, I get up from bed as gently as possible, put on an old sweater and head out for a walk around the Institute.

I used to do that when I still lived here. Walking around the old corridors surrounded by calming witchlight and fraying tapestries always helped me clear my head. The stillness and the quiet was calming. This time, my head is too empty – too focused on tomorrow’s life-changing events.

I head up to the greenhouse, even though the plants there always make me sneeze, taking a witchlight from beside the stairs. To my surprise, there already is one, lit in the middle of the room. Clary’s there too, sitting with a sketchpad on her knee, a half-done drawing of a flower from Idris on it.

“Can’t sleep either?” I whisper, trying not to startle her.

I’m glad to see she remains calm; all that Shadowhunter training has been paying off.

“Nope. I just like the quiet and the way the witchlight lights up the flowers in a magical, fairy tale kind of way. I wanted to capture that,” she says, not sparing me a glance.

I sit on the ground next to her. The flower does look more magical than usually.

“What about you? Are you nervous about your wedding tomorrow?” she asks, finally looking at me.

I have to resist the urge to scream. Her eyes are completely black, as if they were empty. Her face is the palest white I’ve ever seen, completely drained of blood. Her cheeks are sunken and a stream of scarlet blood is dripping out of her mouth.

A chorus of voices erupts from her throat, like dozens of screams, “You’re dying, Alexander Lightwood. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up!”

I sit up on the bed, light from the window pouring onto my face. Cold sweat runs down my back. I find it hard to breathe. But I’m in my room – my Institute bedroom.

I almost jump out of my skin at Magnus’ touch. His eyes are still puffy from sleep.

“What’s wrong, Alec?” he asks, his voice raspy.

“It’s just a nightmare, that’s all,” I say, my throat dry.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks.

I shake my head, and glance at the clock. The sun had just come up. I get up to check on the kids. As I walk out, I see Magnus is still looking at me, his eyes full of worry.

 

We travel to Alicante together. Magnus shoots worried glances at me as he creates the Portal.

I hold Max, still too young to travel through the Portal himself, in my arms. Rafe takes Magnus’ hand. He gives me an encouraging nod and, picturing the crystal demon towers, the cobblestone streets and the witchlight lanterns, I step through.

Clary and Jace are waiting for us on the other side. Last night’s nightmares flash in front of my eyes again – Clary’s black, lifeless eyes, scarlet blood on parchment white skin, dry, dead. I shake the images out of my mind.

As Clary says hello to Max, his small blue hands already wrapped around her fiery red hair, I greet Jace. He gives me a tight hug, as if my marriage to Magnus tomorrow meant I’d leave him forever.

“Are you nervous?” he asks in a slightly quieter voice.

“A bit,” I say, “But I’m more happy than nervous.”

I hear the rest of the group step through the Portal. Rafael giggles. I feel Magnus’ hand on mine shoulder.

“We should go see if Isabelle needs some help with the preparations,” he says, I’m not sure whether to Jace or me, but we both head towards the Accords Hall. We exit the Gard into the city.

Alicante is beautiful in autumn. The warm hue of colours complement the glass-like adamas demon-repelling towers, the worn-out bronze streets, the honey-coloured stone and the red-tiled roofs. Although it never does so, there’s a distinct smell of rain in the air.

 

The night before the wedding, I sit in the Inquisitor’s- the Lightwood’s – temporary house. I lean back in the sofa in front of the fire, thinking. Mom and Dad are already asleep in an upstairs bedroom. Rafe’s and Max’s snoring from the closest room slowly lulls me to sleep. I’m woken by the entrance door creaking and the sound of footsteps.

“You’re still awake,” Magnus says softly, falling into another sofa.

“I was waiting for you,” I say.

He gives me an apologetic look. “Izzy wanted me to use my magic for some of the decorating,” he says.

“I hope it was worth it.” I smile.

“It was. The Accords Hall looks beautiful. It doesn’t at all resemble the place it always is,” he says, his eyes clouding, as if drifting away into his mind.

“I’m excited to see it,” I say, “But I’m more excited to finally be able to call you my husband.”

Magnus leans back on the sofa, his eyes closed, smiling.

“Alec, you know you can talk to me, right? We’re about to be bound together until death, so we should be able to trust each other with everything,” he says. I know what he’s hinting at.

“I know, Magnus, but that was nothing. I just had a nightmare. It was probably from all the nerves,” I say.

“I believe you, Alec, but I can’t help but be worried. Jace told me you looked as if you’ve seen a ghost when you stepped through the Portal.”

“It’s just the nerves and excitement, Mags, nothing more.”

I don’t know why I lied. I don’t want to burden him with the images of Clary - disfigured and so realistic.

“Wake up, Alec,” I hear Magnus say. The next thing I know, he’s standing in front of me, his eyes black, a scarlet liquid seeping down his chin, “Wake up. Wake up. Wake up! Wake up, Alexander,” he chants, louder and louder.

Frozen in fear, I stare up at him.

“Wake up, Alec!” he screams now, high pitched, mouth and eyes open wider than humanly possible, “You have to fight-”

I wake up, gasping. The Alicante bedroom is flooded with early-morning sunlight. I’m drenched in sweat. Focusing on Magnus’ steady breaths, I calm myself down and try to expel the nightmare out of my mind.

I slip out of bed, so as not to wake up Magnus. He stirs, but continues to sleep.

Izzy’s already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the kids, who are running around the living room, full of energy. Luckily, it’s only toast, so I’m not afraid of the kids getting poisoned.

Silent, I make myself coffee, then gulp it down in three seconds. Izzy looks at me concerned.

“Rough night?” she asks.

I nod.

“Nightmare?”

I nod again.

“Are you sure you don’t want to post-pone the wedding?” she asks.

“No way! I won’t let some stupid dream interrupt one of the most important events in my life that everyone has worked so hard to prepare,” I say, my voice weary.

 

I’m standing in front of the Accords Hall, Jace at my side, my _suggenes_. He’s wearing formal Shadowhunter gear, made of soft black fabric. I, on the other hand, am in a Shadowhunter wedding outfit – dark blue gear and a loose jacket marked with golden runes of love, commitment and family, like stars against a night sky.

The Hall is bustling with conversations, everyone already gathered for the ceremony. Jace and I walk inside. The voices immediately hush. Magnus is already standing by the Inquisitor – by Dad. An open Codex lays open in his hands. Max and Rafe are by Izzy’s side, looking around at the decorations. Max is playing with a piece of blue cloth on his left wrist. I smile at them and their faces light up.

Magnus is dressed in an outfit similar to the Shadowhunter wedding dress: a golden suit with black runes, mostly the Alliance rune, as well as others. I can’t seem to remember what they represent. There are a couple of warlock symbols scattered around too.

He looks up at me and smiles as soon as his eyes meet mine. Every worry and nightmare is washed away with that smile. I can’t even feel the underlying feeling that something is wrong. The voices at the back of my mind, screaming every second of the day, go quiet and there’s just Magnus and me.

I’m not sure whether everyone stands up or not. Jace leads me to the top of the room – to Magnus. As we walk, he leans closer to me and whispers, “Come back, Alec, please.”

I give him a weird look, but he shrugs. I stand at Magnus’ side, Dad smiling at me, his wrinkled face almost as bright as when he first saw Max. His Inquisitor gown is lapping around him as if a strong wind was passing through. I don’t have time to think about it, because Dad clears his throat and begins the ceremony.

“We are gathered here today to behold the marriage of a Shadowhunter and a Downworlder. We haven’t seen a celebration as such in centuries. Let us begin,” he says, glancing at the gathered guests.

“Alexander Gideon Lightwood,” Dad looks at me, “Hast thou found the one thy soul loves?”

I’ve been to many weddings, yet this is different. The air feels stuffy and, even though I’ve dreamt of this moment for ages, I feel unprepared.

“I have found him. And I will not let him go,” I manage to choke out.

I look at Magnus and I stifle a scream. His eyes are black, oozing thick, dark blood. His veins have popped out and turned a grey green. When I blink, he’s back to Magnus – bright cat eyes and a serious, yet loving face.

“Magnus Bane. Hast thou gone among the watchmen, and in the cities of the world? Hast thou found the one thy soul loves?” Dad says, looking at Magnus.

His eyes lock with mine. “I have found him,” he says in a deep, raspy, almost demonic voice, “And I will not let him go.”

Inside my head I’m screaming, but on the outside I manage to remain calm.

“Now it is time for the exchanging of runes,” Dad says.

Jace walks up, a stele laid on a cobalt blue pillow. He presses it into my hand. I take it, then look at Dad.

“But Magnus-“ _can’t bear runes_ , I try to say, but he urges me with his eyes.

Magnus’ arm is outstretched, the sleeve of his jacket pulled up. I’m running through dozens of different scenarios. Voices are screaming inside my head.

“Come on, Alec. It’s just a Wedding Union rune,” Dad says in a sort of mocking voice I’ve never heard from him before.

“Alec. Alexander,” Magnus whispers in a voice of a broken man, yet his face remains still.

He reaches his hand out, closer to me, and I place the stele on his arm. It sizzles when it touches his skin and the tangy smell of blood mixed with the smell of Magnus’ magic and the salty taste of tears fill the air. Magnus screams and I jump away. The stele clatters to the ground. I stare as Magnus burns away before my eyes until all that’s left is a human-shaped demon dripping black goo and staring at me with thousands of tiny black orbs.

“You are mine, Shadowhunter,” the voice coming out of the demon is raspy and as if dead and dripping with slime, “You are mine and I will have you here until every last drop of your energy is gone. You will never see your darling warlock again.”

The demons spasms and for a second I think I see Magnus again.

“Al-” he – Magnus – shouts, but he shifts back into a demon.

“Where’s your Angel now?” the demon says. Its orbs are uncontrollably darting around the room. It feels as if it’s shouting inside my head. It’s a splitting pain. I almost collapse onto the floor.

The voices in my head get louder and louder. _Come back, Alexander. My Alexander. Max and Rafael are crying for you, love. We cannot lose you now. I can’t bear to lose you, Alec. If you die, the Alliance is as good as gone. Fight this, Alec, you can do it. Take my strength. I can’t lose half of my soul. Not during times like these._

I hear someone sing, a woman’s voice, _a la claire fontaine, m’en allant promener, j’ai trouve l’eau si belle, que je m’y suis baigne_.

A stench of rot and garbage fills the air. I taste blood and salt. I bite my lips, yet I cannot feel the pain. All I can hear is the splitting shouts of the demon. I curl up on the ground, hugging my legs. I whisper, even though I can’t hear myself, _but our love it was stronger by far, than the love of those who were older than we, and neither the angels in heaven above, nor the demons down under the sea, can ever dissever my soul from the soul of-_

Everything goes quiet. I look up. Magnus. He’s not a demon anymore, yet he’s not the same Magnus I know. He seems… older. His skin shows signs of aging – wrinkles. He looks weary and weak.

“I always knew I’d lose you one day,” he speaks, though looking above me, his voice soft and close to a cry, “Yet it always seemed like a distant date, something happening to not-me, to a different Magnus. I never thought I’d lose you now.”

I gasp, trying to take in the stuffy air, but it’s as if I’m suspended in time. Sitting in the Brocelind Plain, the water of the Lake glowing by me, I grow weary and my eyelids feel heavier than lead.

Suddenly, I feel something else. I feel someone grip my hand. I look around, but there’s only Magnus with me and a light breath of the wind.

I feel energy surge through my arm and a whisper – or a scream, I’m not sure. _For whither thou goest, I will go._

“The Angel do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me,” I say and the blue light blinds me.

 

I cough and gasp for air. The crackling of magic – Magnus’ magic – is above me and I can feel again. I feel every part of my body and though all I feel is pain and slimy goo, I _feel_ and that’s enough.

“He’s awake! Magnus, he’s awake,” I hear Jace’s voice and the pressure in my hand is gone, “Entreat me not to leave thee, dumbass.”

He squeezes my hand again. I want to hug him, but I can barely move.

The crackling stops and someone kneels by me. Magnus. My heart skips a beat, but I remind myself I’m safe. His cheeks are stained with tears and smudged makeup. His hair is plastered to his forehead and he looks exhausted. I feel his lips against mine. Everything is okay.

“Alec,” he says, “I thought I almost lost you.”

“What happened?” I try to sit up, but I can’t find the energy to do so.

“You got some nasty demon poison in you during our mission. We thought you were dying. Magnus kept you alive all night,” Jace said, “You kept mumbling Clary’s name… and Magnus’ and Simon’s for whatever reason. What happened?”

I scrunch up my face and then it all flashes back to me.

“It’s a long story,” I say.


End file.
